"I was not speaking or even thinking of myself; I was merely thinking how happy all kinds of birds, and butterflies, and flowers must be to enjoy the dew, and the sunshine, and the sweet winds."
"Happy, but they have no soul, Doris."
She laughed a low, bitter laugh that pierced Mattie like the point of a sword.
"A soul!" she repeated. "I am not sure that a soul brings happiness; those who have souls have the responsibility of saving them."
"Doris, you do not deserve to be happy, for you are not good," cried Mattie; and three days afterward she remembered the words with the keenest pain.
But Lady Doris was unusually gentle; she bent down and kissed the kindly face.
"I am not good, but I am going to try to be better, dear; it seems to be part of my nature to say bad things. I am not quite sure if I always mean them. Hark, Mattie; I hear the sound of carriage wheels. Earle is coming!"
The beautiful face grew white in its intensity of feeling.
Mattie rose from her seat.
"He will like best," she said, "to meet you alone. I will tell him your are here."